As I heard the sound of the pursuit a horrible sensation of dread came
over me. I felt that we must be taken, and, in addition, vague ideas of
trouble and bloodshed floated through my brain, with memories of the
fight in the gorge, and I shuddered at the idea of there being more
people slain.
The effect was different upon Jimmy, the distant cries seeming to excite
him. He stopped every now and then to jump from the ground and strike
the nearest tree a tremendous blow with a waddy he had obtained from our
guide.
The latter checked him, though, laying a hand upon his arm as he said to
me, after listening intently:
"You don't want to fight. These people are too strong. You must
escape."
"But you will come with us?" I said once more, with the vague fancy
coming back that this was he whom I sought, but terribly changed.
He said something in reply in the savage tongue, stopped, and then went
on.
"I forget--I don't know. I am the doctor--a savage--what did you say?"
"Come with us," I whispered, and he bent his head in the dark; but my
words seemed to have no effect upon him, one idea seeming to be all that
he could retain, for he hurried me on, grasping my arm tightly, and then
loosed it and went on in front.
Jimmy took his place, gripping my arm in turn, and, whispering, showed
his power of observation by saying:
"Much good him. No black fellow. Talk like Mass Joe some time. Jimmy
tink um Mass Joe fader got dust in head. Don't know know."
"Oh no! impossible, Jimmy," I whispered back with emotion. "It cannot
be my father."
"No fader? All um white fellow got mud mud in head. Can't see, can't
know know. No Mass Joe fader?"
"No, I am sure it is not."
"Then um white fellow. No black fellow. Tupid tupid. Don't know at
all. No find wallaby in hole. No find honey. No kedge fis. Tupid
white fellow all a same, mud in um head."
"He seems strange in his head," I said.
"Yes. Iss mad mad. No wash um head clean. Can't tink straight up an
down ums like Jimmy."
"But he is saving us," I said. "Taking us to our friends."
"Jimmy no know. Jimmy tink doctor somewhere right long--big hill. Gib
black white fellow topper topper make um tink more."
"No, no," I whispered, for he had grasped his waddy and was about to
clear our guide's misty brain in this rough-and-ready way. "Be quiet
and follow him."
Just then our guide stopped and let me go to his side.
"Fever--my head," he said softly, and as if apologising. "Can't think."
"But you will come with us?" I said. "My friend the doctor will help
you. You shall help us. You must not go back to that degraded life."
"Doctor!" he said, as if he had only caught that word. "Yes, the
doctor. Can't leave the people--can't leave him."
"Him!" I said; "that boy?"
"Hush! come faster." For there were shouts and cries behind, and he
hurried us along for some distance, talking rapidly to me all the while
in the savages' tongue, and apparently under the impression that I
understood every word, though it was only now and then that I caught his
meaning, and then it was because they were English words.
After catching a few of these I became aware, or rather guessed, that he
was telling me the story of his captivity among these people, and I
tried eagerly to get him to speak English; but he did not seem to heed
me, going on rapidly, and apparently bent on getting us away.
I caught such words as "fever--prisoner--my head--years--misery--
despair--always--savage--doctor"--but only in the midst of a long
excited account which he said more to himself. I was at last paying
little heed to him when two words stood out clear and distinctly from
the darkness of his savage speech, words that sent a spasm through me
and made me catch at his arm and try to speak, but only to emit a few
gasping utterances as he bent down to me staring as if in wonder.
The words were "fellow-prisoner;" and they made me stop short, for I
felt that I had really and providentially hit upon the right place after
all, and that there could be only one man likely to be a
fellow-prisoner, and that--my poor father.
It was impossible to flee farther, I felt, and leave him whom I had come
to seek behind.
Then common sense stepped in and made me know that it was folly to stay,
while Jimmy supplemented these thoughts by saying:
"Black fellow come along fas. Mass Joe no gun, no powder pop, no
chopper, no knife, no fight works 'tall."
"Where is he?" I said excitedly, as I held the arm of our guide.
"Blacks--coming after us."
He talked on rapidly in the savage tongue and I uttered a groan of
despair.
"What um say, Mass Joe?" whispered Jimmy excitedly. "Talk, talk, poll
parrot can't say know what um say. Come along run way fas. Fight
nunner time o," he added. "Black fellow come along."
He caught my arm, and, following our guide, we hurried on through the
darkness, which was so dense that if it had not been for the wonderful
eyesight of my black companion--a faculty which seemed to have been
acquired or shared by our guide--I should have struck full against the
trunk of some tree. As it was, I met with a few unpleasant blows on arm
or shoulder, though the excitement of our flight was too great for me to
heed them then.
I was in despair, and torn by conflicting emotions: joy at escaping and
at having reached the goal I had set up, misery at having to leave it
behind just when I had found the light. It might have been foolish,
seeing how much better I could serve him by being free, but I felt ready
to hurry back and share my father's captivity, for I felt assured that
it must be he of whom our guide spoke.
We were hurrying on all this time entirely under the guidance of the
strange being who had set us free, but not without protests from the
black, who was growing jealous of our guide and who kept on whispering:
"No go no farrer, Mass Joe, Jimmy fine a doctor an Mass Jack Penny. Hi
come along Jimmy now."
He was just repeating this in my ear when we were hurrying on faster,
for the sounds of our pursuers came clear upon the wind, when our guide
stopped short and fell back a few paces as a low angry growl saluted him
from the darkness in front and he said something sharply to us in the
native tongue.
His words evidently meant "Fall back!" but I had recognised that growl.
"Gyp!" I cried; and the growling changed to a whining cry of joy, and
in an instant the dog was leaping up at my face, playfully biting at my
hands, and then darting at Jimmy he began the same welcoming
demonstrations upon the black.
"Mass Joe, Mass Joe, he go eat up black fellow. Top um away, top um
away."
"It's only his play, Jimmy," I said.
"Him eat piece Jimmy, all up leggum," cried the black.
"Here, Gyp!" I cried, as the dog stopped his whining cry of pleasure,
but growled once more. "Here," I said, "this is a friend. Pat his
head, sir, and--, where is he, Jimmy?"
"Black white fellow, Mass Joe?"
"Yes, yes, where is he?"
"Gone 'long uder way. Run back fas fas. Fraid o Gyp, Gyp send um way."
"Stop him! Run after him! He must not go," I cried.
I stopped, for there was a low piping whistle like the cry of a Blue
Mountain parrot back at home.
"Jack Penny!" I gasped, and I answered the call.
"Iss, yes, Mass Jack Penny," cried Jimmy, and Gyp made a bound from my
side into the darkness, leaving us alone.
We heard the crash and rustle of the underwood as the dog tore off, and
I was about to follow, but I could not stir, feeling that if I waited
our guide might return, when, in the midst of my indecision, the whistle
was repeated, and this time Jimmy answered.
Then there was more rustling, the dog came panting back; and as the
rustling continued there came out of the darkness a sound that made my
heart leap.
It was only my name softly uttered, apparently close at hand, and I made
a bound in the direction, but only to fall back half-stunned, for I had
struck myself full against a tree.
I just remember falling and being caught by some one, and then I felt
sick, and the darkness seemed filled with lights.
But these soon died out, and I was listening to a familiar voice that
came, it appeared, from a long way off; then it came nearer and nearer,
and the words seemed to be breathed upon my face.
"Only a bit stunned," it said; and then I gasped out the one word:
"Doctor!"
"My dear Joe!" came back, and--well, it was in the dark, and we were not
ashamed: the doctor hugged me to his heart, as if I had been his brother
whom he had found.